


What's New Pussycat?

by AKMars



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, M/M, friendship/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKMars/pseuds/AKMars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our dynamic duo have a new number to deal with...but for Finch, things go horribly wrong.  Could be considered pre-slash if you squint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's New Pussycat?

Title: What’s New Pussycat?  
Rating: G/PG  
Characters: H. Finch, J. Reese  
Genre: Friendship/Comfort could be considered pre-slash

NOTES: Just a quick one-shot that tickled my brain tonight.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

"Did idn't fuddy, Midder Reede."

The op struggled unsuccessfully to hide his smile. "I'm sorry Finch, but yes it is." 

The billionaire glared at him through blood-shot, watery eyes and winced as his headache kicked into high gear. The inside of his nose itched fiercely and his sinuses were completely blocked. He had no choice but to breathe through his mouth and Harold hated how Neanderthal it made him look.

Their most recent number had been a very dear lady in her eighties whose nephew was planning to kill her in order to obtain the substantial amount of cash she kept on hand in her apartment. Finch had gone in undercover as a housing inspector for the city; ostensibly to find out how conditions were in her building but in reality to set up a surveillance camera.

Matilda Jenkins was so pleased to have any company that she welcomed Harold ‘Kite’ like an old friend, insisting that he join her for tea as they spoke. Finch found her warmth and kindness reminded him of his own long-deceased grandmother and would have enjoyed their conversation but for one issue.

The six felines that shared her home; George, Gracie, Jack, Mary, Fred and Portland were every bit as friendly as their mistress and even more determined to show the billionaire just how affectionate they were.

Two hours later, Finch had returned to the library; covered in cat hair and sporting a full-blown allergy attack. He was just emerging from the bathroom after a long, hot shower when Reese had walked in and found him in his state of misery.

“Mrs. Jenkins’ nephew is lying low for the moment. I’ll keep my eye on him. Did you ah...manage to get the camera placed while you were playing with the kitties?”

“Yed....I did. We shud hab a clear feed cobing ind.” The recluse wheezed as he sat down at his computer station. 

John noticed that Finch was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. His nose was red and chapped from repeated blowings and he kept rubbing at his eyes in irritation.

“Do you have medicine here, can I go pick something up for you?”

“Yed, I phond in a predription dat need to be picked ub.” The look of relief on Finch’s face killed the remains of John’s amusement.

“I’ll be right back, Harold.”

His boss just nodded, too miserable to reply.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

“Dank you, Midder Reede.”

Finch all but grabbed the bottle of liquid-caps from his op, swallowing two of them like a junkie desperate for a fix. He downed the glass of water Reese had brought him and sat back in his chair; eyes closed as he silently prayed for the medicine to begin working or that he would die, whichever would happen quickest. 

After fifteen minutes, the recluse felt his nasal passages begin to open and the pressure of his sinus headache receded for the time being. Exhaling in relief he also begin to feel the side-effects of the prescription kick in. Finch yawned hugely.

The ex-CIA man regarded his partner for a moment, then moved over to his chair. 

“Hey Harold, let’s get you over to the bed where you can rest a bit.”

“Mmmm-hmmm.” Finch yawned again and made no objections as Reese all but lifted him out of his seat, supporting most of his weight as they made their way into the back office the billionaire had converted into a spare bedroom for himself. 

John managed to ease the smaller man down onto the mattress and prop his upper body up on some pillows. He removed Finch’s slippers and covered him up with a comforter, tucking it around his shoulders with surprising care.

The recluse blinked sleepily up at him.

“John.....”

“Just rest, Harold...I’ll put your glasses on the table, okay?”

“ ‘kay...gud-nidt.” Finch closed his eyes, smiling as he felt Reese lift the glasses from his face. 

John watched the quirky, mercurial man who’d become the center of his world drift off into sleep. He felt tired himself and if the bed Finch was lying on had been larger than the twin set it was, the op would have joined him. He sighed, reaching out to stroke the spiky hair. _Maybe someday..._


End file.
